Fallen Kingdom
by Vintage Vixxin
Summary: Taken from her homeland and tossed into the wicked grasp of royalty, Visenna must survive the trials ahead while discovering nothing is as it truly seems. Will she survive the revelation of her past, or will she succumb to it's mayhem?
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER ONE**

* * *

**Dragonstone**

The candle in the centre of the table burnt bright as the flame flickered to and fro. Heavy rain pelted against the roof of the small cottage and we all thanked the blessing we'd been given. Rain fed the crops which in turn fed us, but the enduring length of the rain has lasted weeks. Chores are harder, if near impossible, along with many other things. There's even been whispers that perhaps this downpour means more than we think.

A message from the Gods.

Flashes of lightening and crackles of thunder echoed along the walls and windows as we sat huddled together. Supper is simple with a few potatoes and chunks of dried beef. There isn't much to go around as of late, but the three of us manage like we always do.

"It'll stop soon enough" spoke my older brother, Eirden. A head taller than me, he's no longer the skinny boy I grew up with but a hardworking man. He often helps Father when it came to harvesting the crops or herding the small flock of cattle we owned.

"I wish it would stop now" I muttered "It feels miserable, just lingering about"

My head rested in the palm of one of my hands as I sat poking at the pieces of food on my plate. My Father gave a reassuring smile and gestured "Why don't you eat. The rain will stop when it's ready. Besides, I'm sure you haven't missed anything" he added "You and your friends"

"Friends?" I scoffed with a shake of my head "I want to see the sun again. Feel the wind. It's too small to be stuck in this house"

"What are you trying to say?" jested my brother, trying to lighten the mood.

Giving a short laugh and smile in return, I ate the rest of supper. Being the last to finish, I stood up and collected the plates. Taking them to the wash bucket, I cleaned up before heading toward one of the small rooms. I don't have much in terms of belongings, but there's enough for myself; a single bed pushed up against the wall and a wooden cupboard just opposite of it. A square window nestled in-between.

Peering out, the sun had rested a while ago and it's now dark outside; the glow of the moon shining atop the soft hills and toward the cliffs. Our small village rested a short walk from the ocean. You can always hear the waves crashing against the shore line. It's a soothing sound, one that would always calm me down and lull me to sleep.

Sitting by the small vanity, I struck a match to light a nearby candle. My face illuminated in the mirror and I couldn't help but stare at myself, like I do most nights. My appearance startled and confused people at first; mostly foreigners, travellers and traders. They didn't quite understand the circumstances of my affliction, or my so called traits of a house I never truly belonged to.

The condition isn't unheard of, in fact, there's others like myself amongst the villages of Dragonstone. However, in truth, we're outcasts who're looked down upon by those around us. Nothing but a lingering reminder of a tradition long since rejected.

Untying the strings of my white head cap, I watched as my silverly locks fell down in waves. Flowing over my shoulders, my fingers ran through and like many other times I wondered what I would look like if it were different; if I'd been born to look like everyone else. Would it be better or worse?

Rubbing my tired eyes, I felt the familiar sting of fatigue as it filled my body. Stretching my arms, I undid the ties of my dress before slipping out of it and into something more appropriate for sleep. Plaiting my locks, my fingers grazed over the silver necklace and ruby pendant that rested against my chest. It's one of the last pieces I have left of my Mother.

Nineteen years ago she died giving birth to me. When she passed they burnt her body on a pyre by the ocean, her ashes scattering with the wind and sea. When I'd feel alone I would always go out to that same spot and talk to her. I liked to think she's still here with us and so does my Father. Every now and then I'd hear him whisper her name, but he'd never talk about her.

I know it must be painful, even after all this time, and so I never mentioned her either. However, the one thing my Father did tell me is that I look just like her, with my pale skin and silvery hair. The detail brought me comfort to believe that she's the bigger part of me, the better part. It's the only reason why I haven't cut off my horrid locks, knowing that if I did I would be cutting her away too.

Slipping under the covers of my bed, I tucked myself in and stared up at the roof as I listened to the rain. Lightening flashed every once in a while and it wasn't long until I drifted into the realm of sleep. That night my dreams were filled with endless shapes and adventures, ones that made sense and ones that didn't. Either way they made me want for something more.

I woke the next morning to the peculiar sound of silence, an eerie kind.

There's no rain, no birds or anything of the sort. Pushing the blanket off of myself, I moved to look out of the window to see the sun barely shining through the thick layer of clouds. The storm seemed to have finally passed over night and a morbid aftermath had taken its place. Wrapping a shawl around myself, I stepped out of my bedroom to soon realise no one is home. Where could they have gone and why didn't they wake me?

"Eirden?" I called out, but there was no reply.

Swiftly turning around, I headed back into my room to get changed. Snatching my cap off of the vanity table, I quickly shoved my hair in place and out of site before heading outside. It was somewhat bright compared to inside and I had to shield my eyes.

The smell of dewy rain filled my nose along with the muddy grass. There's a few people already up and about and I could see the strange look on their faces. Something isn't right. Trying not to slip along the mud and sludge covering the ground, I looked this way and that; trying to figure out where my Father and Eirden might have gone. It was then that I heard the gust of commotion.

A large group of people had huddled around the end of the village. Getting closer, I soon realised that one of the homes had been completely destroyed. The roof and walls had caved in, there was nothing left but a mass of rubble. It was an utterly horrible mess and I couldn't help the shock that overcame me, so much that I hadn't noticed Eirden until he called my name.

"Visenna. What are you doing here?" he spoke firmly while trying to usher me away from the scene "Let's go. I'll take you home"

I shook my head "What happened?"

My brother sighed "It was the storm, now let's go. You don't need to be here for this"

"For what?" I questioned "Are they alright?"

Eirden held a sad and regretful look "They're dead"

My heart skipped a beat "All of them? Roran?"

Roran was a good little boy; nine years younger than myself with big round eyes. He always smiled and loved to play with the other children. Looking up at my brother, he gave a nod of his head and a terrible swell of sickness filled me. None of us saw this coming. Everyone was fine and we'd endured storms before.

It never killed anyone, until now.

Placing his hand on my shoulder, Eirden tried his best to comfort me, but when I looked back I couldn't hold the tears. They spilt from the corner of my eyes as I watched them carry the small body wrapped in cloth away from the wreckage. Shrugging my brother's hand I turned to march away. Heading back to the house, I closed the door with a firm thud. My back pressed against it for support as I wiped the tears away.

A moment later I was jolted as a knock echoed out along with my Fathers voice. Turning to let him in, he gave a gentle sigh "Eirden told me you were there"

"Yes" I nodded "You weren't home when I woke. I went to find you" I shook my head in disbelief "How did this happen?"

"In truth, I don't know" he replied "We found them this morning. No one knew until then. I would say they were asleep when it happened"

"And how does that matter? Their dead either way. But their little boy, Roran. He was only ten" my hand reached up touch my cheek "For all we know they could have been calling out for us, stuck for days on end"

My eyes pinched shut at the horrible thought. My Father sighed "I know how this might sound, but it would be better if you didn't think about it. What happened was a tragedy, but there's nothing we can do now. Try and keep yourself busy. There's a lot that needs to be done now the storm's passed. Focus on that"

I wanted to berate my Father over his harsh words, but deep down I know it's what needed to be done. I cared about Roran and his parents were kind people, but they're gone. I could sit here and cry over their deaths, or I could move on with the living. It's one of the cruelties of this world. It doesn't stop for anyone – not even Kings.

Nodding my head, I straightened my back and skirt "Then, I'll get to work"

Grabbing the weaved basket which sat by the front door, I headed out with not another word. Making my way toward the backside of the house, I looked toward the vegetable patch I kept enclosed in a small fenced off area. It was never anything special, but I took good care of it and I immediately cursed the world for destroying it.

The garden and its vegetables are all lopsided, some of them torn from the ground and rotten. It would take some effort to get things sorted back to the way they were. No doubt I'd lose most of the harvest, but at least it's not all gone. Taking up most of the day I pulled and plucked the bad vegetables and a handful of weeds that grown, while trying to avoid the getting too much mud on myself.

Wiping the sweat from my brow, the garden started to look much tidier than before. Once the clouds go away and the mud starts to dry out, things will get easier. Cleaning my hands on the apron of my dress, I moved on to the rest of my duties; fetching water, running errands and preparing meals. The endlessness of the day took a lot of this morning's thoughts from my mind, just as Father had said. I'm somewhat grateful. But deep down I know that when the day settled and I'm lying in bed at night, I'll remember.

And then all I could really be thankful for is that at least it wasn't us.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO**

* * *

**Dragonstone**

The next morning came all too soon.

Standing atop one of the many hills resting on the outskirts of the village, I watched as they placed the bodies on the tall wooden pyre. A handful of men, including my Father, had spent the previous day building it for the funeral, and now the whole village had gathered to say their goodbyes. Glancing up, the clouds have yet to part ways for the sun to shine and I briefly wondered if the omen were true.

Had we done something wrong?

Watching the torches be lit, the men pressed their fiery ends up against the wooden logs. The flames quickly took hold while my brother's hand took that of my shoulder "They're in a better place" muttered Eirden.

I didn't reply, but could only hope that my brother's words are true; that those good people and their son are in a far better place than on this island. Watching the fire crackle along to burn a path toward the bodies, it wasn't long until the pyre became completely engulfed. Grey smoke rose in the air and I soon began to smell the distinct scent of burning flesh.

It's unpleasant to say the least.

Clasping my hands, we all stood together and watched while listening to the prayers being read; wishing them a safe journey into the afterlife. Once the smoke had settled a little and the flames calmed, members slowly started to disembark back toward the village. The funeral is over and later on, when the sun sets on the horizon, they'll take down the left over remains.

"Let's go" spoke my Father with a nudge. The three of us made our way back down the hill and I changed my solemn clothes for something more appropriate for chores.

"Fetch water from the well first. The barrel needs to be filled" instructed my Father before he disappeared back out the doorway, my brother followed after him.

I sighed at the tone of his voice but didn't argue. Grabbing the two wooden water buckets, I headed out toward the well that's located in the centre of the village. Lowering them down one at a time to collect the water, I always struggled to wind them back up but managed; the coarse rope chaffing against my skin.

Hoisting out the bucket, a little water sloshed from the sides as I sat it on the ground. Gripping the handles to carry them home, I limped side to side. Sweat formed on my brow as my shoulders pulled down from the weight. I always hated collecting water but all things in life are necessary, especially if we want something to drink and to wash ourselves with at night.

Taking the buckets to the back of the cottage, I poured them into a larger barrel we have for storage. Watching the water as it splashed over, my ears suddenly caught a familiar bellow in the distance. Quickly covering the barrel with a lid, I strode over to the source of the noise only to find my Father. He stood clutching his hand while my brother lingered by our wooden cart; one we use to take our crops into town for sale.

"What happened?!" I gasped while rushing over.

Eirden shook his head "We were trying to lift it out of the mud. His hand got stuck under the wheel"

Taking my Fathers hand in my own, I notice its already starting to turn purple. He must've broken a bone or two. Looking up at my Fathers face as he stood with a wince and clear pain in his eyes, I couldn't help but scold the both of them for their recklessness.

"Why are you trying to do this now?" I questioned "You realise we won't have crops for months, not after the rain. Surely it could've waited"

"Don't lecture me about it" replied Eirden "He wanted it done"

Sighing, I gestured to my Father "Come inside so I can bandage it. It's already starting to swell"

"No, it's fine"

"It's broken" I retorted "You need a Maester"

"Visenna, leave it" he replied firmly, using a tone I know all too well. There's no point arguing with him when he gets like this.

"Fine. If you want to lose your hand then that's your decision"

Marching off, I left without another word and headed back into the cottage. Anger swelled inside of me from what'd happened. Lighting a few more candles around the house, I tried to stave off the dimness of the weather. Flinching at the sound, I turned to see the front door open and my brother standing in its way.

"What do you want?" I snapped.

"You know he doesn't mean it. He's just –"

"A fool? An idiot?" I finished "Like I said, it's his choice. If he wants to fix things he shouldn't be then I can't stop him, but we can't afford for anyone to get sick or injured. After the storm we barely have enough to keep ourselves going. The paddocks flooded, months of crops are destroyed and we have nothing left to fall back on"

"It's happened before. We'll find our way"

My eyes closed tightly and I pinched the bridge of my nose before admitting "It's not good enough. We can't live on nothing. He's getting old Eirden"

My brothers brows drew tight "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"He's isn't the man he used to be" I replied "He's old and grey and this life has taken its toll. Have you seen him lately, the funeral? Something's wrong"

"He's _upset_ Visenna and he has every right to be. Let it pass and he'll move on again"

Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm myself. Glancing at the floor, I finally took a seat "I'm just scared. I don't want to lose him. I don't want him to wither away. You two are all I have left"

"You're not going to lose either of us"

I shook my head "That's not true. The day will come"

"But not today" he reassured whilst kneeling in front of me "And that's all that matters. Today. Together"

Looking into Eirden's eyes, I couldn't help but realise how much he looked like Father when he was younger; with those brown round eyes and swift hair. I nodded "You're right" wiping my face, I took another deep breath "Go on. Make sure he's alright. Don't let him get into any more trouble"

Eirden gave a comforting smile "Things will be good again, I promise"

Sitting alone in silence, I took in the inner workings of our home; its ordinary walls and the ordinary things that filled it. Since I was born I'd never left the island of Dragonstone, and it made me wonder what the world looked like across the sea; the Seven Kingdoms and its cities. But most of all I dreamt of Kingslanding and the Red Keep.

We all hear stories as we grow up, from our parents and those who wander. We hear about the towering castle and the city below it filled with thousands of people. I often thought of even travelling their one day, but for the time being I am where I've always been. A part of me is scared that that fact will never truly change, but I could never leave my family behind – not for any adventure.

For now, I'll just have to make do with the trips into town.

Getting up, I'd made up my mind as I moved here and there to pack a satchel. Almost a day has passed and we can't wait any longer for the weather to improve. The roads to town will no doubt be troublesome, but I'll just have to be more careful. We need supplies, one's we can't get in the village or make ourselves. Perhaps I might even be able to procure something from the Maester for Fathers injury.

Changing into riding gear and pulling on my black boots, I headed outside to find Eirden and Father standing exactly where they were before "I need to head into town for supplies"

Eirden gestured to the cart that's still stuck in the mud "It's not ready"

"I can see that" I retorted "It's fine, I'll just take the horse"

"No" replied Father with a shake of his head "You're not going alone. Wait until we fix the cart and I can come with you"

"You're crippled. It'll be days before you can lift that thing out and fix it. By then we would have starved and you'll be in even more agony than you are now. It's a two hour ride at most. I'll be back before sun down. Let me do what needs to be done – like you said"

Father grit his jaw for a moment. Clutching his injured hand, he then gave a nod of approval "Keep to the track. Don't stop for anyone"

Adjusting the heavy satchel that hung from my shoulder, I took his blessing and headed straight toward the communal stable. Finding the familiar dark brown horse waiting ever patiently on the far left, I patted his snout.

"Why don't we go for a stretch?" I muttered toward the horse, who only shuttered its body in response.

After saddling up and securing the satchel, I got on with a quick jump and headed off through the village. Passing through the centre and further out, we followed the worn trail that flowed over the hills and through the rocky grass.

In the past there used to be signs that would guide you from one town to the next, but over time they'd worn with the weather and were never replaced. Nothing here on Dragonstone has ever really been up kept since the Royal family rarely ever visits.

I always thought that fact to be rather strange, considering this island has been the Targaryen ancestral seat since the Doom of Valeria. It was almost hard to believe that once upon a time dragons were born here, roaming these very skies.

What a sight that must have been.

Looking out toward the pulling ocean and mountains, I saw the town inching closer by the minute until we reached its iron gates. A handful of guards patrolled the walls and the town, and its people filled the streets along with travellers. Getting off the horse, I took firm grip of its reigns as we walked the rest of the way toward the markets. There I should be able to trade what I have for grains and whatever else I could bargain.

"Thank you" I said while taking the bags of wheat and loading them into the satchels that hung by the side of the horse. I'd managed to do rather well with what I had to begin with, now all I needed is to find where the Maester is these days.

I turned back to the woman who'd sold me the wheat "Where can I find the Maester?"

She pointed toward an alleyway "Two streets down, on the left. He's up in the tower"

I nodded, but felt uneasy by the somewhat suspicious path that laid ahead of me. Alleyways are never a good idea, especially for someone like me; a lone girl with a horse and satchel full of goods. Moving onward, I don't have much choice in the situation and so I went through the alleyway. Tying the horse to a post, I patted its neck while my eyes wandered all over; caution and panic seeping into my veins.

"He won't be going anywhere"

The frail old voice frightened me from behind and I immediately turned to see an old man standing hunched by a doorway. Adorned with grey robes, chains of rings hung from his neck and waist. My blood settled so I could reply "You're the Maester?"

"Indeed" he said before turning his back and heading inside. It was a rather peculiar response.

Taking once last look, I followed the old man through the door way and up a winding stair case until we reached an open room. High up, it smelt of feathers and something sour, not at all pleasant. The room is also filled with an array of clutter; benches with different jars filled with different things and plenty of thick books.

The Maester looked at me with pale eyes "You've come seeking my help"

"Yes. My Father injured his wrist. I think it might be broken"

"That is unfortunate" he muttered while moving to rustle through a draw. Coming upon a small vile, he held it up for me to see "Milk of the poppy, to ease his pain. I would also recommend bandaging the area in place. He should have come in your stead if it were, as you say, broken"

"He's stubborn and our wagon is stuck from the storm. I doubt he would have made it far by horse"

A pause of silence followed my explanation. Reaching into my pocket, I was just about to hand over my payment so I could leave this place when the Maester spoke again "I could see it as soon as I laid eyes on you"

Stopping, I looked up at the old man "See what?"

"The depth of your eyes and your pale skin. You're not like the others. There's a certain history flowing inside your veins"

"Nothing that I want to be a part of" I replied firmly.

"Regardless of how you feel, there's no choice in the matter. You are who are meant to be"

Holding out a few coins, the Maester gave a short wave of his hand "I won't be needing that. I'd like something more person instead. A lock of your hair, if you will"

Holding out a pair of silver scissors, I couldn't help but stand and process the rather strange request. The scissors glimmered in the old man's palm before I took them in my own. To me it seemed such a small price to pay for something I valued.

How could I refuse?


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER THREE**

* * *

**Dragonstone**

It's been almost two weeks since the storm had passed and they had been buried. The dark grey clouds had parted ways for the sun and its blue sky to finally shine through. The mud which covered the ground and much of everything else had dried up and the grass had grown to peek its way through. At last, it seemed the days will once again be beautiful and enjoyable.

Kneeling in the garden by our home, I sifted and plucked through the patches for some ripe vegetables and fruits to add to my lunch. Dusting my hands and dress as I stood up, I headed back around and inside the cottage to find my Father and Eirden. They're both sitting at the table eating a bowl of stew.

"Aren't you going to sit down with us?" asked Father.

Things had been better with him since I'd come back with the medicine and bandaged his wrist. After two weeks it'd already started to heal, the swelling had gone down along with its purple colour. Shaking my head, I answered "No, not today. I'm going for a walk to the cliffs. I'll have it there"

Father paused, his face tilting down to look at his bowl "Alright. Be careful"

"I always am"

Putting on my thin cloak and grabbing the woven basket, I kissed my Father and brother farewell before heading out. As I walked through the village, I saw the people and their familiar faces scattered everywhere as they went on with their own lives. Even after all these years, I still feel their lingering gaze; always wary of my presence.

All I can do is ignore them and focus on the warm sun as it touched against my pale skin. With that notion I couldn't help but think of the old Maester and what he'd said to me all those weeks ago. No one else ever really seemed to notice me for who I am and yet he did, in a strange sort of way.

I felt vulnerable beneath his pale eyes, but not in fear; rather it was that of familiarity. He knew and saw me coming before anyone else ever would. He didn't look down at me as a weakling with a deformity, instead I was intriguing – a rare specimen.

Walking along the vast space and through the tall grass that reached my hips, my hand came out to swat away a few strands. Nearing closer to the cliffs, the timely smack of the waves against the rock face echoed louder along with the whirl of the wind. I can smell the distinct scent of salt and taste it on my lips.

The grass had now shortened to make a clearing. Placing down the basket, I heading over to the very edge. My heart skipped a beat as my eyes peaked over to see below. At first I saw the rocky edge and then the deep blue ocean with its white foam. Peering out further, there's no ships or land, just endless water and a sharp horizon.

Pulling away from the cliffs edge, I made my way back over to the basket to take off my cloak and place it flat on the ground. Sitting down, I pulled out a few bits of dried meat and fruit before taking a bite. There's no one else out here except for myself. It feels nice to be completely alone after such a long time.

Pulling on the strings of my cap, I tugged it from my head. My white locks blew free over my shoulders and I sighed in relief; a heavy weight lifting up. Taking another bite of food, my fingers played with the silver necklace that adorned my chest.

"Mother" I whispered "I've missed you"

The wind settled as I took a deep breath. My head shook lightly. There's a thousand things I wanted to say and yet I couldn't really form the words. Instead my emotions ran ramped within me and my eyes watered until a few tears dripped down to wet my cheeks.

"There's been so much – so much tragedy. Good people have died and others are changing, father the most" I spoke softly "I'm stuck. I don't know how to move forward or see a future for myself"

There was no response, not that I expected there to be.

A part of me just wished, wished that a voice would call out and tell me everything would be alright. Running my fingers over the blades of green grass, I listened to the sound of the sky and the sea and found comfort in once again being able to speak my mind; if only for a little while.

"I hardly pray. I know Father would be mad but I can't bring myself to do it anymore. Not after the accident" I swallowed the tears that brimmed "I'm grateful for what I have and that's all that matters. Nothing else is going to come my way. It's just the way things are" a wave crashed up against the rocks, stronger than the others "If anything, I pray that one day we all leave this place and never come back. We don't belong here – at least I know that I don't"

Sighing, I sniffled with a wipe of my nose. Lying on the flat of my back, my hands rested by my side as I stared up at the sky. It shifted and changed with the wind while the clouds floated on by. To my left, I saw two black birds as they flew with each other in a sort of dance. The calmness of the open air captivated me in a blank stare as I just relaxed.

Until the village bell rang out a moment later.

The echo rolled sharply over the hills to reach my ears and my brows furrowed in confusion. Sitting up straight I can already tell something isn't right. The pit of my stomach twisted and fear shot through my veins. The sounding of the bell could mean anything, but whatever it is it's warning us. Getting up from the ground, I quickly packed up all of my things and tucked my hair before racing back through the tall grass.

Coming upon the village, I saw from the hill that everyone had drawn together; away from their homes and chores. Sneaking low, I can see a small group of soldiers. A company of four horseman and a carriage. A flag waved from their banners and once I saw the familiar flash of red and black that symbolled house Targaryen, I knew nothing good could come from this encounter.

Moving my way through the grass and behind homes, I steered clear of everyone until I reached my own house. Carefully opening the back window to my bedroom, I crawled in and closed it behind me. I can hear the commotion coming from outside as I crept toward the front door. Squatting low, my ear pressed up against the wooden door and I listened.

Hooves tapped against the dirt as the horses snorted and I had to wonder why these men would be here, of all places. Rarely ever did outsiders come to the village. There's nothing out here except for farmers, cattle and vast land, and yet the Kings men had ventured here none the less. Are they looking for something?

Daring to look out, I rose just a little higher so that I could peek out of the corner of the window. It was a blurred vision as looked through the glass, very few details except for the appearance of a stout figure; perhaps that of man dressed in yellow robes.

One of the village stepped forward with his wife, clinging close to his arm "Why have you come so far out, Lord? Are you here to trade?"

"No, not to trade" came the surprisingly gentle yet calculating voice "I've come on behalf of the King"

"And what does the _King_ want?" replied my Father, his tone of voice filled with spite.

"The seeds of Dragonstone have been invited to live among the capitol"

"For what purposes? What does he want with our children?"

"It's by order of the King. His reason is his own" the stout man clarified "Their safety is paramount, I assure you. However, let it be reminded that refusal of the Kings orders is punishable by death"

Sagging down, my lips parted with confusion. They're here for me. The only one. My heart sank heavy within my chest as panic seeped into my veins like poison. And in this brief moment I prayed for my salvation, that these men wouldn't find me or force me from my home.

In an instant, I regretted all that I'd ever said and thought of once leaving this island. I feel as if I've made a fatal mistake and all I want is to take it back. I never wanted to leave; not like this and especially not without my family. Who would look after them?

"I've been told a girl lives in this village, but I don't see here among you"

My body curled and I froze, as if the slightest breath would give me away. However, it wasn't my own actions I should have been worried about. Silence took over and it seemed that no one spoke for the longest of time. The rustle of boots sounded from outside, until a confession suddenly erupted from a woman's lips. A neighbour, neither friend nor foe, until now.

"She lives in that house, right there"

An immediate argument filled the air before I realised I'd been betrayed. Bolting from the door, I hurried to my room. My heart pounded so hard I thought it might break free. There's nowhere to hide, nowhere to run. They'll find me no matter what I do, and before I had any more time to think, the front door of my home was kicked in.

The soldiers saw me straight away, standing in my bedroom wide eyed and stunned. They took my arms in a bruising grip before carting me outside. Everyone from the village stood staring at me as if I were a parade. Some of them had pity in their eyes, while others refused to look at me altogether.

The next face I saw was my Fathers, knelt on the ground alongside Eirden. It was clear by the bloody nose that my brother had tried to defend me. My lips trembled in sadness for the danger I'd put them in "Please" I begged "Don't hurt them"

Squirming in the soldiers grip, I tried to break free so I could get to my family – the only family I have. Finally landing my eyes on the stout man dressed in his fine robes, I was quick to notice his baldness. The way he stood and carried himself seemed to indicate he might be highborn, or at least important enough to do the Kings bidding.

Stepping toward me, he seemed oddly gentle yet dangerous in a peculiar sort of way, moving with an edge of carefulness. Plucking the cap from my head, my locks once again revealed my true nature. The man's fingers pinched at a few strands and as if to make sure before giving a light nod of his head. Taking a step back, his hands joined together; seemingly lost beneath the sleeves of his robe.

"Your father and brother" he clarified "I'll grant them pardon for the treasons they've committed, so long as you come willingly"

My doe eyes looked toward the men in question, still kneeling on the dirt. Fathers head bowed in shame while Eirden seemed to stare daggers at the king's men and all the mischief they'd caused. But all I can think about is protecting them and I was quick to agree to the stout man's deal.

"I will, just let them go"

The man gave a gentle nod of his head "It's a long journey"

"I want to say goodbye" I interrupted.

The man looked at me in a simple gaze before giving a nod "Quickly"

Darting over to my family, I pulled my Father up from the dirt and my arms quickly wrapped around his waist in a tight embrace. I didn't want to let him go, but before I knew it I was being once again ripped away by the soldiers.

"Vissena" called my Brother, wanting to help me from their awful grasp, but Fathers arm moved to stop him. My own Father would let me go and would hold my brother at bay from his sister's captors. The gesture surprised me, but all that didn't matter right now. I just had to know.

"Look after him. Promise me!" I yelled.

"I will" replied Eirden before I was forced into the carriage.

Stumbling into the decorative box, it smelt of cinnamon and spice. Moving as far away from the bald man as I could manage, my hands touched the fine silk cushions that covered the seat. Huddling in the corner, I eyed the strange man whose name I hadn't been given.

"Who are you?" I questioned once the wheels of the carriage pulled forward.

"Lord Varys"

"You're a lord?"

"Among many things" he replied before simply adding "The Master of Whispers" with a light shrug of his shoulders "All just titles"

"Titles matter"

"Indeed they do"

"Then why am I here? I'm nobody. I'm not a Lady of anything"

"No, no you're not, but with any luck that's what you'll become"

Nestling back into the corner, I drew my knees up to my chest, not caring that I stained the silk with mud and dirt from my boots. Varys words confused me and by the sound of it, he could easily tell as the next and last words he spoke to me were these "I wouldn't dwell. It does terrible things to the mind. Answers will come, in time"


End file.
